


Blue Suede Shoes

by Dusty_Forgotten



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Gen, Inspired by Music
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-10
Updated: 2014-08-10
Packaged: 2018-02-12 14:49:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2114013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dusty_Forgotten/pseuds/Dusty_Forgotten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The King teaches the Kings how to be a true King.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blue Suede Shoes

**Author's Note:**

> Found it in HD for you: [Blue Suede Shoes by Elvis Presley](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NEr6Ax-VSkM)

“No no no, that’s all wrong! Let the King show you how it’s done.”

Erin hadn’t even minded that he interrupted their conversation for that- hell, watching the boy on stage twitch like that was getting on her nerves, too. She’d seen a Presley holotape or two (didn’t want to tell them, though, ruin the whole game). She’d never, however, expected the King himself to climb onstage. She’d never seen the man standing before, figured him to be pretty crotchety, but he rose from his chair (a few bones cracking, admittedly) and climbed on that stage, agile as ever.

He took the mic, and the new recruit quietly stepped out of the spotlight. The King snapped, perfect rhythm, tapping his foot doubletime. “A-one. A-two. A-one, two, three, four!”

The Courier’s eyebrows shot up. He wasn’t just agile, he was downright sprightly. His hips ticked back and forth, foot tapping in synch. He had the movement down, his face was always perfect with that uneven lift of a smile, and that didn’t change when he sang. Oh no, the only thing that changed when he sang was how willing he was to draw attention to himself. His voice was precise; Six could have closed her eyes and- well, she didn’t need to close her eyes to imagine she was at a Presley concert.

His shoulder shook as one hand undid the buttons of the black shirt peeking from under his jacket, and there was the Elvis sex appeal. My my, did he have sex appeal. She almost wished the groupies were here to see this, wondered if they saw this side of him regularly, wondered if they would jump his bones the second he got off stage. Well, Erin would just have to fill the part of rabid fan, wouldn’t she?

Rex barked as the King carded a hand through his hair, rehearsed, beautiful, and bowed as the song came to a close. Erin tucked two fingers in her mouth and whistled, penetrating the noise of applause as the King lowered himself back to the floorboards, and took his seat. His shirt was still open, manly hair poking from the gap.

“Sorry about that, little lady.”

“Oh, Jesus, don’t be. You’re fantastic.”

He snickered. “Well, thank you.” _Come on, say it..._ Erin thought. “Thank you very much.”


End file.
